


Discovery

by jaimistoryteller



Series: Love of Discovery [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury, Johncroft, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlockcroft, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Drug Addiction, SFPAC August 2015, Threesome - M/M/M, holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 16:32:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4486779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/pseuds/jaimistoryteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sherlock is injured during a case, there are some unforeseen results of that injury.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Injury

**Author's Note:**

> Sherlock is injured during a case, there are some unforeseen results of that injury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [Tumblr Sherlock Fandom Prompts and Challenges](sfpac.tumblr.com) August 3 Word Prompt: Hope, Deletion, and Wake
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!

Mycroft’s POV  
It had been three weeks since the accident. Three weeks of watching the machines whenever he was off work. Three weeks of hoping and worrying and, as much as he hates it, fretting over whether his brother was going to wake up or not.

When John had first called, he had been in shock. Why was he not notified of this sooner? Was his surveillance slacking? How is it the blonde doctor was the one to notify him? Why did he still not have the details of what caused his brother’s injury even three weeks later? What he did know was they were on a case when his brother was hit by a speeding car that it knocked him off the bridge they were on and threw him into the water. Apparently the only reason his brother lives is John went in after him, and once he was out of the water set to making sure everything was in working order while the paramedics were on the way.

“Sir?” his assistant murmurs from the spot beside him.

Coming out of his mind, he tilts his head and replies, “Yes?”

“Doctor Watson wished for me to inform you that Sherlock is showing signs of waking. He said he tried your phone but it went to voicemail.” She remarks softly.

He nods, glancing at the desk and the papers on it before standing.

“Shall I order the car?” she queries with a tilt of her head.

“Yes, I shall work from my home office or phone for the rest of the day,” he responds as he heads to the side room where he keeps his briefcase.

“Sir, why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Everything of import is done, I can handle the little details and text you for anything I may need permission for.” She suggests quietly, looking at him rather than her phone which is unusual.

He closes his eyes, thinking about it briefly before nodding, “Of course.”

“Very good,” she states as she goes back to the phone.

Nodding once more, he leaves the office and heads towards the parking garage. His stride faster than normal as he walks through the building and climbs into the car. Once in the car, he checks the report that Anna had uploaded. The footage has finally been collected, as has all the reports on it.

During the ride over he reviews them, watching in horrified silence as the person who they were after stops a vehicle by jumping in front of it, pulling the driver out, getting in the car and slamming on the gas. Because his brother is faster than the doctor, he was the one who was hit. The car didn’t get too far however as the doctor pulled his gun and shot the driver before diving into the water after his brother. The next several minutes are the doctor pulling his brother out of the water, pulling a knife from somewhere to open his clothes before carefully starting to check him over, frowning at whatever it is he discovers. It is at that point he switches to the medical files, reading about the broken ribs, punctured lung, damage to most of his other organs, hypothermia from the water, and a concussion.

Closing the file, he considers the fact that John Watson was deadlier than he realized. While he was aware the younger man had excellent aim, he had not realized quite how excellent. It is a good thing the doctor never decided to put a bullet in him while his brother was gone or things could have gone far different.

When the car pulls up to the curb, he closes the file and tucks his phone into his pocket. A moment later he slides out of the car, and strides up to the hospital, his umbrella clicking lightly against the cement as he goes. Inside the hospital, he makes his way to his brother’s room, finding the doctor sitting on the edge of the bed, carefully taking vitals despite the machines already doing it. A small smile plays across the blonde’s lips.

Turning his head slightly, the younger man remarks, “Hello Mycroft.”

“Good evening, Doctor Watson,” he replies, since the Mary fiasco, he had not felt comfortable calling him by his first name. Some reason, the burning image of him nearly dead after a bullet ripped through him and his wife, killing Mary and the child, and leaving John in a coma for three months. During those three months his brother had stayed by the doctor’s side, often begging him to live, to heal, to recover. Even worse than that was the fact he started wanting the doctor to wake up too. That terrified him. So when the doctor woke up, he started calling him by his formal name once more, to distance himself from the blonde.

“He’s now in normal sleep, sometime in the next few hours he should be waking up properly.” The doctor states before shifting to the side so he is not directly next to him but still close.

“That’s good. I apologize for not answering the phone, I accidently muted it.” He explains quietly, not wishing to be too loud.

“I figured you were busy, so I called Anthea instead, I knew she could reach you as soon as you were available.” The younger man states with a shrug.

“Thank you,” he replies, eyes bouncing around the room as he finishes processing everything he had read. The reason the report was so late is some idiot clerk, who would be shipped out to the coldest and worst place he can find, had accidently deleted all of the records and his request for information. It had taken his PA personally acquiring the original copies around her already busy work schedule.

“Sit down Mycroft, you look like you are about to pass out.” The blonde orders him, pointing at the chair on the other side of the bed. “When was the last time you ate something?”

He blinks, shocked to hear what his brother refers to as Captain Watson, coming to the surface. “Yesterday at some point in the morning,” he answers with a shrug.

“Right, well then, you need to eat.” The doctor declares as he eyes him. With a shake of his head he mutters, “Gezz, I swear the two of you are trying to drive me gray.” Catching his glance firmly and a little bit louder he queries, “Food preference?”

“Not salad or something frozen?” he really is not sure he wants to be eating.

“Ummmhmmm,” the younger man responds thoughtfully, “Well then, Angelo’s it is.” Standing the blonde leaves the room after gently brushing a dark curl away from his brother’s face.

“You’re flatmate is an interesting goldfish Sherlock,” he mutters, not sure if that is a compliment or insult.

“More like a koi,” his brother rasps without opening his eyes. “You think he is a plain goldfish then you discover the fighting nature, determination, and hidden depth.”

He almost asks the completely foolish question of, ‘how are you feeling’, but bites his lip because he looks like he is still in pain.

Slowly, his little brother opens his eyes before snapping them shut again. “Dim the lights,” his brother quietly demands.

Complying quickly, he does so, debating about whether to call for his official doctor or not to alert them that he has awoken.

Before he has to decide, John and another doctor walk in, neither touch the lights though the second doctor takes all of his states and such. “Doctor Watson has informed me that he order food for you from elsewhere because you are too stubborn to eat the food here. Normally I would not allow that, however I have long known Doctor Watson, and he tends to be blunt about patients needs. When you are done, we will get the tests that need to be run completed.”

His brother nods slightly, just a twitch of his head.

Nothing else is said as the doctor swans off without saying another word.

“Dinner for all three of us will be here in twenty five minutes or so,” the blonde announces as he checks his brother as well, more out of instinct and habit than anything else. 

“Angelo’s?” His brother asks with a soft smile on his lips, the sort of smile he normally only sees behind closed doors when it is the two of them.

Something in his gut clinches hotly, after years of them keeping their relationship private he has a feeling his brother is finally going to end it in favor of trying for a relationship with the blonde doctor. While he normally denies all emotional attachment or needs, it is one he accepted years before when the fifteen year old boy gave him two choices. Since then, only during the stint where he was out of the country studying abroad have they not been in that relationship. After he had discovered what his leaving had done to his brother, well he made it a point to see the younger man at least once a month now.

Still, his brother has awoken, that is a good thing.


	2. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [Tumblr Sherlock Fandom Prompts and Challenges](http://sfpac.tumblr.com) August 3 Word Prompt: Hope, Deletion, and Wake
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!

_Sherlock’s POV_  
The first night he was awake, John had left nearly two hours after he was supposed to though none of the nurses or doctors in the building tried to get him to leave sooner. They all knew him and the fact he had a scathing temper problem. His brother had stayed for nearly half hour past that, most of which the two of them were silent.  
   
Finally he had asked in the quietest of voices, “After twenty years are we done?”  
   
Confused, and a bit slow from the pain medication, it takes him a long moment to understand and then he feels like a fool for not getting it immediately. “No. Why would we be? You still want me. I still want you. We both want John.”  
   
“But would John want both of us?” His brother inquires quietly.  
   
“I am sure if you showed him the side I see when there is no one around he would.” He replies.

His brother just about snorts in disbelief, “Normal people think our type of relationship is wrong, Sherlock.”

He considers shrugging but decides against it because of the broken rib. “John’s not normal. Do you honestly think a normal person who have put up with me for as long as he has or come back to me the way he did?”

Mycroft closes his eyes and sighs almost inaudibly.

He can see the wheels spinning in his brother’s mind faster than anyone else he knows. Like lightning, the politician and spook is figuring out every every possible scenario.  If his brother decides it is not worth the risk, he will approach John on his own, explain the situation and see if the blonde-haired doctor is willing to try.

“When you are better we will discuss it with him,” his brother eventually declares. “I doubt it will work, however your blogger has been surprising me since the day he met you. Perhaps this will be another surprise.”

Relief pours through him, he had not wanted to choose between the two.

Since he was fifteen he had his brother as more than just his brother. They had fought and argued, and even hated each other at different times however they always came back to each other. When he was fifteen he had made his brother a deal, he would not use his body to get drugs or his way as long as he was kept occupied. Since he was curious about sex and other matters of that nature, he had managed to include that in the deal. The only time he had reneged on that deal was when Mycroft had went to first the States,  then Canada, and finally Japan for three years without saying a word to him first. When his brother finally got back, it was to discover him hooked on cocaine and bugging the local inspectors to let him solve crimes. Once more they returned to their deal. He kicked his habit, Mycroft made it a point to make sure he had cases to solve, either with the Yard or through him, and when he was feeling really high strung and not even the cases where allowing him to unwind, they would end up in bed. Well, not always in a bed.

“Good,” he states as clearly as he can when his voice is rough currently from disuse.

The rest of their visit was in silence, both lost in thought.

Two days after he wakes up he insists on going home. He is tired of being in this annoying place. All he wants to do is stretch out on his sofa and take a proper nap away from all of these idiots. While he does not like sleeping, he knows that if he does not get enough of it at this time while healing, his transport will not work right later. However if he has to be wasting his time sleeping, he would rather do so somewhere he is comfortable and that is not here.

Since walking is still not something he is doing all that great, sore muscles and all that, the doctors insist that he uses a wheelchair to the car. His brother has one of his cars made available for him to ride in, that way he does not have to ride in a cab and the ride will be comfortable. John, of course, insists on being there for the entire process from the moment he gets checked out until he gets home.

He’ll never admit that is probably a good thing as he sways in place and stares at the steps, wondering when there got to be so many of them.

“Come on stubborn, let’s get you comfortable on the sofa,” his friend murmurs, arm looping around him in a familiar way and helping him up the steps.

This is not the first time, probably won’t be the last time he’s needed the help.

He does not grumble as they slowly make their way up the steps though he does groan in relief as soon as he is on the sofa, long legs stretched out and relaxing.

Of course John makes tea and he feels like he is home.

Three weeks pass before his brother has a free night and is able to come over. As much as he hates to admit it, it is probably a good thing. He had taken nearly the entire time to get back to where he ought to be for his health. Now that he is however, he would like to have the discussion on sooner than later. Particularly since he knows his brother will try to come up with reasons why not.

“John, tea please, for all three of us.” He states as he stands when he hears his brother’s vehicle pull up to the curb.

One blonde-brow arches but his long time friend says nothing, instead he rises from his seat in the armchair and heads into the kitchen to make the tea.

As soon as John cannot see, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He is sure that his flat mate will agree, however he had forgotten to discuss a few important details with his brother. Namely, is he allowed to have sex with John when Mycroft is not around? He is alright with the idea of them having time alone together, it might allow them to bond a bit more. Just because he likes causing strife with his brother, and mostly because it’s a great way to hide the fact that their relationship is more than just brotherly, he feels odd with his blogger being at odds with him.

“Of course,” his brother states from behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Turning, he smiles at his brother, arching one eyebrow in question.

Nodding once, the both of them turn towards the kitchen where his blogger is emerging with three cups of tea. He is not sure how the blonde carries all three without spilling a drop, but he manages and hands off their cups before settling into his chair.

His brother sits on the sofa, body vibrating slightly with tension. Titling his head slightly, he joins him, settling on the sofa as well.

“We have something we wish to discuss with you,” he remarks before he takes a sip of the tea. “Perfect,” he murmurs as his eyes drift mostly shut.

“Okay, something wrong?” his flatmate replies.

Beside him on the sofa he can feel his brother vibrating with tension that seems to be getting worse.

“No,” he answers, “nothings wrong. We have a proposition for you, well I have a proposition for you, he’s more along for the ride.”

One blonde brow arches towards him again, before his friends light eyes turn to his brother, studying him for a long moment.

“Continue,” his blogger states with a wave in his direction.

“I would like to sleep, have sex, and possibly have a long term relationship with you.” He states clearly. Motioning between himself and Mycroft, he continues, “I would also like to continue the relationship I have with Mycroft. Even further, I wish for you to join our sexual relationship as well.”

John stares at him with narrow eyes for several long minutes before setting his cup to the side, leaning forward and bracing himself on his knees. “You want to have sex with me, you want me to have sex with both of you, and have relationship.” The doctor repeats and paraphrases.

He nods, not saying anything and carefully watching how his flatmate responds.

John goes through an entire series of emotions, everything from disbelief to curiosity. He is surprised that there are not actually any negative emotions going through him. The curiosity seems to be the biggest emotion, and his light eyes flicker to his brother repeatedly.

“Are you actually willing or is Sherlock trying to force a situation you don’t want?” the doctor demands of his brother seriously.

Blinking at him, it takes his brother a minute to process John’s question. When he does, his skin flushes lightly, which on his pale skin stands out rather a lot. “I,” he begins, then clears his throat, “I am. Sherlock  is not trying to force anything on me, Doctor Watson.”

Several minutes pass in silence as John studies his brother with narrow eyes and his brother stares back with his head tilted upwards, expression serious and as open as he has ever seen it with the doctor around.

  
“So you too?” the blonde questions, not bothering to finish the sentence since he knows they will understand.

“Yes,” he answers with a nod.

“Right, more tea?” the short man asks as he stands without actually waiting for them to answer before he collects the cups and heads into the kitchen.

His brother arches an eyebrow at him questioningly.

He smiles in response, nodding towards the kitchen and settling back against the sofa.

Several minutes later the blonde returns with their drinks before settling back into his seat. “Properly, if we do this, we do so properly. With communication and none of the flouncing you like so much, at least not about this topic.”

He can feel the shock pouring off his brother beside him in the way he sits just a bit straighter, his eyes changing from gray-blue to gray-green, and his breath getting just a bit shallower.

“There has to be ground rules, know each others limits and boundaries, maybe do some of the normal relationship sort of things,” the doctor continues before either of them can comment.

“Boring but alright,” he remarks knowing that he will have to fight otherwise to get what he wants, and that is not what he wants to do.

The next two hours are dull as the three of them cover the arrangements with the doctor refilling their drinks eventually. Of course, things improve drastically when the blonde suggests that the three of them share dinner together with a warm smile. So they order Angelo’s, getting something for each of them before the doctor gets a fire going and gets them all fresh teas. When dinner arrives, the blonde fetches it from the delivery bloke while he gets dishes and sets them on the coffee table in front of the sofa. He had even closed and locked the door behind him, though he found it rather amusing.

“Dinner,” the doctor announces as he settles on the floor closer to the fireplace and starts to pull everything out for them to eat.

His brother is rather uncomfortable, not used to such informality but trying to relax. He knows that is not actually going to happen any time soon, he has been trying too hard to put distance between himself and the doctor.

“Sit on the sofa and relax Mycroft.” The doctor orders his brother who had stood up and glanced about unsure what to do.

Sinking back into his spot, the blonde passes his brother the plate before making his and handing it over as well.

The first bit of dinner is quite, he can feel the tension rising in the air.

“So you two snap and snarl at each other as a way of keeping the fact you are closer than most would considered normal secret?” The doctor queries.

“Yes,” he answers with a nod before taking a bite. “Everyone thinks that we do not get along when in truth we get along fine.”

“Is it just sex between the two of you or something more?”

His brother nearly chokes as he turns beat read.

“A bit more,” he replies, smirking at both the older men for their various expressions. “We cuddle, just sleep, have sex, reassure each other, occasionally eat dinner, and once in a great while do other activities together such as games or movies.” He shrugs, “It doesn’t happen as often since you moved in as it did before, but we do still manage to make time together.”

John gives a satisfied smile and nods once, “Good.”

“Is it always going to be all three of us, or will there be time when it is just two of us?” The blonde inquires with a tilt of his head.

He wonders why he had not asked this earlier, and realizes that he wanted to get the other details ironed out first. Typical John, save what might be the most important for last.

“Situational,” his brother replies, entering the conversation, “As you two live and work together, I suspect that there will be more time spent between you then between us or the three of us.”

“Are you alright with that?” His flatmate inquires watching Mycroft’s expression.

For a few long minutes his brother thinks about it before nodding once, “Yes.”

“Good.”

 The rest of dinner goes quietly. After dinner, John immediately cleans up, waving his brother back to his seat when he starts to stand up. When he is done cleaning up, he returns to the living room and settles onto the coffee table directly in front of his brother.

“I’m going to kiss you now Mycroft,” he murmurs quietly, “If you are alright with it?”

Blink once, and licking his lips, his brother nods slowly, eyes never leaving John’s face.

Short, blunt fingers cup his brother’s face between his hands before he leans forward and presses their lips softly together.

He can feel his eyes widen as he enjoys the view. It’s one of the most arousing sights he has ever seen. His brother’s eyes flutter shut as John slowly kisses him. Tongue tracing his lips before slowly flicking between his brother’s lips. A low groan escapes his brother’s lips which the doctor swallows before returning to kissing him.

Absently, he reaches down and adjusts his pants and trousers because they are very tight all of the sudden.

When the blonde sits back, he smiles softly at his brother, hands slowly trailing from his face, down his throat, to gently rest on his shoulders.

Oh, he really hopes he is next. He is eagerly looking forward to seeing exactly how well his flatmate kisses in person.


	3. Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr about my stories: [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> This is Holmescest -brothers having sexual relations with each other
> 
> Originally this was going to be the last chapter, but as I was writing it, it decided it wanted to be broken up depending on who was in bed with who, so that's what is going to happen here. Part 1 of the 4 parts of smut
> 
> This would have been posted sooner but I kept getting calls from folks, including a friend I had not talked to in several months

_John's POV_  
During the next six months he takes his time getting to know both brothers on a different level than he had previously. While there was not a lot of things he felt the need to learn about Sherlock, Mycroft was a completely different matter. There is a lot of information that he knows about the boffin that he does not know about the politician. So he sets out to learn it. Each bit of information is filed away in his mind. The three of them spend time together whenever possible. Sometimes their time is spent talking or eating a meal together, other times they curl up together on the sofa with Mycroft often the one in the middle. There are kisses and soft touches, teasing moments, flirty times.

He keeps the younger genius on the edge, forever changing his habits and patterns so that the younger man cannot figure out what he is doing.

“Why haven’t we had sex?” Sherlock grumbles at one point after a rather thorough snogging.

“Because I do not feel like rushing when we do so, we have spent years as flatmates and friends, I do not wish to destroy that if things go south.” He had replied.

“Oh,” the genius mutters as he watches him.

Smiling, he kisses him slowly before going back to what he was doing.

Nearly time, he thinks to himself, I think I will have the boys show me how they are together. Once I have seen that I will decide where to go from there.

Three weeks later he decides it’s time.

It is early Friday evening when Mycroft gets in. Originally the three of them had planned for dinner, but he is planning a bit more than just that. Since both brother’s had been out all day, he did a thorough job cleaning the flat before suggesting to Mrs. Hudson that she might wish to visit her sister for the weekend. She had just smiled at him before nodding and making some phone calls, not an hour later she was leaving in a cab. Once she was gone, he heads to his favorite sex supply shop, picking up several different bottles of lube, both regular and ones that have special purposes. On his way home he picks up supplies to make dinner, deciding to go with something that both of the brothers love. When he gets home, he starts everything to cooking. His next goal is setting up the living room so it is far more relaxing, getting a fire going, setting up candles, and dimming the lights. Satisfied, he nods and checks the clock, happy to see that he still has forty-five minutes during which time he takes a shower.

Mycroft is the first one in the door, stopping just inside the door and looking around. “John,” he murmurs, “Is something going on?”

He smiles as he comes walking into the room, he is only wearing a loose pair of sleeping bottoms and some soft pants that the brothers had gotten him.  His skin still gleams with moisture, as does his hair. Walking over to the politician he tilts his head up and kisses him gently on the bottom of his chin.

“I was thinking that we can have a bit of a romantic night. Tonight I would like to observe what the two of you are like together.” He replies before kissing him one more time, just a bit higher so he brushes against the taller man’s lower lip.

The auburn-haired man’s eyes open wide, his breathing gets just a bit shallower.

“Go get a shower and relax, I put some clothes out for both of you,” he suggests lightly.

Nodding once, the taller man leans down slightly to kiss him gently on the lips before he does as directs.

Not even ten minutes later Sherlock comes whirling in, full of energy as he tugs off his scarf and coat without looking around. When he finally does, he stops and studies the room before a slow smile curves his lips. “Finally,” he happily exclaims.

“When your brother is done showering it’s your turn.” He tells the dark-haired genius as he dances in place.

“Yes John,” the boffin energetically replies as he heads to the bathroom.

He just shakes his head  fondly, heading into the kitchen in order to check their dinner. Since it is nearly done, he gets out the dishes and silverware.  As he pulls it out, he feels the warmth of the elder brother pressing close behind him, not quite touching but close enough.

“Smells delicious,” the politician murmurs against his ear before lightly kissing his shoulder.

“Good,” he answers as he tilts his head to the side so the older man has better access.

“When do we start?” The younger man demands as he comes flouncing in. He stops in place, sniffing the air, “That smells good.”

He smiles as the elder brother presses another kiss to his shoulder, this time a bit closer to the base of his neck.

“Dinners done. I thought we could have a nice relaxing evening. Then the two of you could share some time together while I watch.” He informs the younger man as he tugs dinner out of the oven.

As he turns, he sees the younger man open his mouth to say something only to snap it shut again and smile.

He serves up the food to both brothers before making his own plate. The three of them withdraw to the living room where they settle onto the sofa together, Mycroft in the middle to eat their dinner. Occasionally he will offer a bite to one of the brothers, and in exchange they offer him a bite. They also feed each other bites.

When they are done, he collects up the dishes and heads into the kitchen to clean them up. Afterwards he returns to the living room to see that they have shifted position slightly so that Sherlock is stretched out with his brother beside him, their bodies pressed lightly together longways as they cuddle. Mycroft is the one on the bottom, supporting their body weight. Smiling, he settles on his chair and watches.

For a little bit nothing more happens, they simply cuddle up together. Eventually the younger brother shifts positions slightly, tilting his head and pressing his lips to his brother’s. Slowly they take their time kissing, lips and tongues moving against each other as they connect. Mycroft’s hands cup his brother’s hips, pulling him closer before sliding to his ass. Sherlock’s hands start roaming  his brothers body.

He is happy that he is wearing loose clothes or he would be rather uncomfortable as he starts to fill out.

While he continues to watch they take their time stroking and petting each other, he gets the feeling that they are refamiliarizing themselves with each other. The way they touch each other seems rather worshipful. It is having far more effect on his system then any of the pornos he had watched prior to them requesting his joining in.

The kissing and touching changes, grows hotter more involved. As he keeps watching, Sherlock works his way down his brother’s body. Nibbling, licking, and kissing every inch of pale flesh as he reveals it from beneath his silk sleepwear. When the younger man get’s to his brother’s stomach he spends several minutes giving it even more attention than the rest of his body.

“You’ve lost weight again,” the dark-haired genius murmurs accusingly.

The older genius merely shrugs, groaning as his brother leave a vibrant red mark on his pale peach colored skin.

“John will get you back to the right weight, he’s managed to make me gain weight.” The younger man continues before keeping on his downwards path.

Nimble fingers untie the sleeping bottoms and push them down at the same time as the pants beneath, leaving the politician open for viewing. 

He holds perfectly still as he keeps watching, enthralled at the way they seemed to have forgotten that he is there.

A moment later, before he has a chance to study the erect cock the younger man has started sucking on the head of it like a lollipop, his brother’s long fingers sinking into his riotous curls lightly. As far as he can tell there is no pressure on Sherlock, merely just a touch. Slowly the younger man works his brother deep into his mouth and down his throat. It is obscene how much of that cock he seems to be able to swallow without having to take a breath. A series of low groans and moans escapes the auburn-haired genius as he shallowly thrusts into his brother’s hot mouth.

Several minutes pass like that before the elders hands hold his brother still as he thrusts up once, twice, and holds. Moaning as he comes according to the seman he can see dripping out of the corners of the dark-haired geniuses lips.

Slowly, Sherlock pulls off with a loud wet pop. It is at that point that his mind informs him that the younger brothers hands had not been on his brother’s hips. One had been playing with his balls, the other hand been playing with his brothers tight hole.

Crouching over the older man, the younger brother rolls him over, shoving his bottoms out of the way and sinking in without a word said.

His groan of relief echoes through the room however.

Sherlock is not slow or gentle as he fucks his brother. It is fast and dirty, hard and quick. He can tell from the way that Mycroft responses this is not the first time he has done this and probably will not be the last time. It takes him even less time to come than his brother.

Afterwards, the two brothers collapse onto the sofa, the auburn-haired brother on the bottom, his brother still buried inside of him and stretched across his top. Both seem to be rather drowsy as they continue to lay there.

Well, he thinks, that was not what I expected. Still, it was fucking hot. Particularly the way Sherlock can take his brother and barely breath. I think I will take care of myself while they rest. 


	4. Mycroft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr about my stories: [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!

_John’s POV  
_ After he has finished himself off to the sight before him, he stands and heads into the bathroom. First he cleans himself before he takes the warm, moist flannel out to the living room in order to carefully clean his boys up.

First is Sherlock, who he carefully slides out of and off of his brother brother wiping him off and carrying him to his bedroom. Thankfully the door is not shut, so it does not take much to tug his clothes back in place and tuck him into the bed. Gently pressing a kiss to his forehead, he turns and leaves the room.

Then he takes care of Mycroft, paying a bit more attention to cleaning him since he both came and was bottom. When he is sure the older man is clean and will not wake up feeling sticky, he carefully redresses him. He understands that the politician is not a fan of being naked because of complaints from Sherlock in the past. Once his soon-to-be lover is dressed, he carefully lifts him as well. Frowning, he determines that feeding the politician is as important as feeding the boffin, both are underweight for their frames. He is thankful that he no longer has leg issues since moving back in with Sherlock, though his shoulder will be pissed at him later for pulling such a stunt. Quietly, he carries the older man to his brother’s room and tucks him in bed beside the boffin, tucking him in and kissing his forehead goodnight

Quietly, he slips out of the room to finish a light cleaning on the flat, making sure to blow out all the candles and wash the dishes left over. The leftovers are shoved in the fridge to be eaten later. Once he is satisfied with the flat, he checks on the brothers one last time before heading up to his own bed.

In the morning, it is not surprising that he is the first one up. He is pretty sure that is because both are exhausted, particularly when he checks in on them, smiling at the sight of Sherlock’s long limbs  wrapped around his brother’s body while his brother holds him in response. A small part of his mind wonders when the last time the two of them had a chance to just cuddle like that? He will have to make sure that it is scheduled into the agenda in the future.

Still smiling, he sets to making the boys breakfast, he knows that both will be up soon and wishes to have it ready so they can enjoy it. He knows what types of food Sherlock will pick off of his plate, so he makes extras of those, otherwise he makes a wide variety of other small breakfast foods, because he does not know what types of breakfast foods Mycroft prefers.

He has just finished up and is getting ready to go tell the boys breakfast is done when he hears Sherlock stumbling out of his bed.

A minute later both brothers enter the kitchen, the auburn-haired brother gently kisses his shoulder before sitting at the table.

“Morning loves,” he greets them as the dark-haired brother kisses the side of his jaw lightly before settling into the other seat.

“Where’d you put my experiments?” The boffin inquires.

“The two that said they had to be kept at a stable according to your notes are in the cupboard over there,” he motions to the experiment cupboard, “The other one you marked as complete in your notes so it is in the bin.”

Briefly, the dark-haired genius scowls at him until he seems to recall the deal they had and nods instead, “Fine.”

“What would you like for breakfast Mycroft?” he queries, changing his attention to the older man even as he makes the younger one a plate of food to share with him.

The auburn-haired genius looks over the options before answering, “Bacon, pancakes, and juice please.”

“Coming right up,” he remarks as he makes the politician a plate.

When it is ready, he sets it in front of the older man before grabbing the plate he made up for him and Sherlock.

Settling between the brothers, he sets to slowly eating his breakfast.

Mycroft gives the plate a funny look at first, he doesn’t eat as much as he put on it, as soon as  Sherlock starts picking at it. He nods, understanding exactly why. Breakfast goes quietly, the three of them eating in companionable silence, occasionally he offers a bite to the boffin before he can steal a bite, other times he uses his fork to get a piece of the politicians to offer him. The first time he does so, the older man flushes, peach skin turning a lovely shade of red.

“I’m going to Bart’s, Molly said she had some fingers for me, don’t wait up for me,” the boffin announces as soon as his plate is empty.

“No chasing criminals on your own if you get called,” he tells the younger man as he sweeps out of the room.

“Yes John, I’ll call if there is a seven or higher.” The dark-haired genius agrees, sweeping back in with his coat on long enough to kiss both of them before he is out the door.

Chuckling, he shakes his head, he understands that Sherlock is trying to give him time with Mycroft on his own but it is still rather funny.

“I was unaware that Doctor Hooper had any parts for him.” The auburn-haired genius murmurs as he watches his brother fly out of the flat.

“She is probably unaware of it too.” He answers with a smile, “He’s trying  to give us some private time, in that awkward Sherlock way.“

“Ah,” the taller man mutters, his lips twitching in a slight smile. “Rather clumsy for him.”

“Well, he is not always good at doing stuff of that nature,” he comments with a shrug, “At least not where I am involved it seems. Personal experience with him and matters of a more personal nature?”

Shrugging, the genius responds, “We tend not to have a lot of private time, and have gotten to a point where insults make a great way to show affection to each other.”

Chuckling, he smiles at the taller man with another shake of his head, “Only you two.” Tilting his head, he queries, “Would you like to do anything today? If you have no plans, i have a couple of ideas myself.”

Smiling at him shyly, the auburn-haired genius answers, “I had not, I have both today and tomorrow off, unless something comes up.”

Standing, he sets to putting the leftover food away after offering some to the other man that is denied with a simple shake of his head. “Well then, why don’t we go to that greenhouse we’ve visited a few times to walk around for a bit, then come back here for lunch, and maybe a back massage? I have the oils for it up in the room. After that we can just relax for a bit, maybe read. Reading is hard to do with Sherlock around as you can probably imagine.”

Thinking about it, the older man nods, “Acceptable plan for the day. Dinner towards the end of it?”

“I’ll have to buy something for it,” he answers with a smile.

“Or I can treat you to dinner,” the politician offers softly.

His smile grows as he nods, “That would be nice.”

“I have a suit in my brother’s room,” the older man remarks as he stands up, “I’ll get dressed.” As the auburn-haired man passes him, he stops to murmur, “Thank you for cleaning us up and putting us to bed last night.”

He turns to his to-be-lover, lifting a hand to gently stroke his cheek, “You’re welcome love.”

Mycroft’s eyes close as he presses into the contact a bit more.

“Let’s get dressed then,” he suggests, leaning forward to give him a soft kiss and smiling at the taller man.

“Yes,” the auburn-haired man responds, nodding once and straightening, breaking the contact between them.

The two of them head to the respective rooms to dress before meeting back up in the living room. Heading out to the curb, he is not surprised to see a sleek black car idling. He smiles at the older man as he opens the door for him.

They spend the morning at the greenhouse wandering around his companion tells him about the variety of plants to be found. While he is not all that interested in the plants, he enjoys listening to the older man tell him about them, his smooth voice going over the details he knows he will not retain. Its a lot like listening to Sherlock when he is going on about something he knows he will not remember but is just as enjoyable to listen to.

After their time at the greenhouse, the car brings them back to Baker Street where they eat leftovers from the previous night’s dinner for lunch.

“Ready for that massage?” he queries when they are done.

The blush that colors the politician’s face is adorable. “I, yes, of course, down here or in your room?”

“Wherever you are most comfortable,” he answers with a light smile. 

Nodding, the taller man glances at the floor for a minute before quietly asking, “What do I need to remove?”

“Jacket, shirt, and vest,” he replies, stepping next to the politician he runs his knuckles down the side of his face again as he states, “You don’t have to do this if you do not want to. I just remember you mentioning a sore back a few weeks ago, and figured its because your muscles get tense.”

“I want to,” the older man almost instantly responds, turning his head to lightly kissing his hand, “I do.”

“Is the problem the fact that we are never in intimate situations without Sherlock here?”

Flushing brightly, the auburn-haired man nods once.

“Alright, you get comfortable, with or without your shirts. I’ll fetch the oils, if you want to give it a try we can, otherwise we can just have a nice cuddle.” He decides and declares. This is why he had not rushed their relationship. With only Sherlock he probably could have moved faster, because he had been with the boffin in a platonic way for far longer. The same could not be said of the politician.

He doesn’t give him a chance to argue before he heads up to his room to grab the oils and lube. Last night he had noticed that Sherlock had only used his fingers, nothing more to prepare his brother, so there is a pretty good chance that it will not be all that safe for him to have sex with the older man, but it is, he wants to do so carefully. He has found in the past that massages can lead into lovely moments of affection and passion.

Returning to the living room, he finds the tall man sitting in his pajamas on the sofa, looking a bit nervous. The fire is going again as well and there are two mugs of tea sitting on the coffee table.

“Thank you Mycroft,” he murmurs as he sets the oils and lubes on the table before heading in the bathroom where he collects a few flannels. Next stop is the kitchen where he checks and makes sure the microwave is safe before heating up one of the flannels in it. While it is warming, he gets a large bowl to fill with hot water, and drops the next flannel in that. Leaving him with one flannel he has done nothing with. Just before the microwave beeps he takes the bowl to the living room and sets it down next to the oils that the auburn-haired genius is studying with narrow eyes. When he returns from the kitchen a second time, he questions, “So massage or cuddle?”

Swallowing, the older man looks directly at him and slowly unbuttons his shirt before allowing it to fall off his shoulder. “Massage,” he answers huskily, “Though you look to be prepared for a bit more than that.”

Grinning mischievously, he replies, “Well you know, knowledgeable hands on the body can lead to interesting reactions and pleasurable moments. Someday I’ll give you a full body massage.”

Nodding, Mycroft stretches out on the sofa, limbs too long for it, causing him to groan.

“One sec,” he remarks, heading to the linen closet and pulling out the extra comforter. He carefully sets it out on the floor in front of the fireplace. “Here, this might be easier,” he suggests as he grabs the union jack pillow for the auburn-haired man to rest his head on.

There is a long pause before the older man gets off the sofa and stretches out on the blanket, however he almost sighs in relief as he does so.

“First off, I am going to lay this warm towel on your back to start the muscle loosening process.” He informs his companion as he does so.

This time there is a definite sigh of relief.

“While it’s heating your muscles, I am going to warm some oil on my hands, do you have a preference for sent? I have coconut, vanilla, sandalwood, and scentless.”

“Sandalwood,” is the muffled reply that he gets.

Nodding even though his companion cannot see it, he lifts it up and opens it, allowing the scent to fill the air as he pours just a little bit into his cupped palm. He gives it a few moments before continuing, so that it is closer to his skin temperature than the room or colder.

“Now I am going to take the towel off your back and slowly start the massage.”

The next three hours are spent with him working every kink and knot he can out of the older man’s back, sides and shoulders. Each touch is carefully pressured to help not harm, and he is thankful he decided to take those elective classes on massage therapy after all. Roughly half way through Mycroft starts making the most adorable little moans and breathy sounds of pleasure.

“Are you enjoying this?” he murmurs against the shell of the older man’s ear, leaning slightly over his body but not putting pressure on it.

“Yes,” the politician hisses in response.

“That’s good. would you like me to continue or would you like to stop?” He queries, his tongue gently flicking out so it ghosts along the edge of the auburn-haired man’s ear.

Groaning, the older man rolls over and leans up to kiss him hesitantly.

He smiles, and kisses him back enthusiastically. When they finally break apart he asks, “Why do you always seem hesitant? Like you are unsure you are welcome?”

“I am aware that you prefer Sherlock,” the politician answers a bit tensely.

He blinks before a startled chuckle escapes, that’s the problem? Really? Silly Mycroft.

Tensing up, the older man scoots away and sits up, reaching for his shirt as he blushes hotly.

“If I prefered Sherlock, Mycroft, I would have already tumbled him. He’s been aching for it since the first night. I want all three of us to be on the same page, or close to it, you were nervous. So I made sure to give it time. Over the last week the signs of nervousness had decreased.” He explains as he catches the older man’s arm in his hand and tugs him back towards him, “I never would have agreed to both if I had a preference. It wouldn’t be fair. You are both brilliant and attractive men, I wonder what either of you sees in me, but don’t plan to question it too much because you might realize I’m just a damaged army doctor. Mind you,” he adds playfully, “A skilled in the bedroom, damaged army doctor.”

The taller man gives him a frustrated look before stating, “You’re ridiculous at times.”

“Well I have to be, have you tried living with your brother lately? That boy can be a menace when he wants to be,” he retorts mischievously.

“That is true,” the politician murmurs before licking his lips.

The small action draws his attention to those lips and he considers leaning forward and tasting them, but after that little bit of emotional upheaval he does not want to cause overload.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” the older man tells him, echoing his words from when they first embarked on this relationship.

He beams at him, nodding and leaning forward slightly, meeting him halfway there.

It starts off slow and easy, but quickly becomes something more. Somewhere along the way he takes control of the kiss, rolling them so the taller man is stretched out beneath him on the blanket while he continues to explore his mouth. Those kisses change into something else as he starts to kiss, lick, nibble, and worship the taller man’s body with his hands and mouth.

“You’re a beautiful man, Mycroft Holmes,” he declares as he keeps touching every part of him that is uncovered. His mind is able to identify what the various scars are, particularly those that belong to knives and guns, and he gives them just a bit more affection before continuing on. “Can I take your bottoms off Mycroft? I can feel how hard you are.”

“Yes,” the older man groans, lifting his hips so he can easily pull the bottoms down.

He is shocked to discover that he is not wearing any pants, so his almost-lover’s heavy member springs forth, erect and proud.

He takes a few moments to study it while washing his hands with the now lukewarm water. Once he is sure his hands are free of the oil, which while good for doing massages is not good on penises, he dries the on the third cloth before reaching out to stroke it gently.

Several minutes are spent exploring the taller man, learning where his most sensitive spots are when he uses his hands alone. When he is sure he has a good idea of them, he changes positioning, and sets to doing the exact same thing with his mouth, his hands holding the older man still as he starts to move. A bit later he brings the rest of himself into play as well, teasing with his eyelashes and breath, bringing him right to the edge of orgasm before gentling him.

“Never pegged you for a tease,” Mycroft gasps out after the third time he is edge away from the brink.

“Three Continents Watson at your service,” he replies as he continues his teasing, lightly nibbling on the junction between leg and torso. “One thing any of my past partners can tell you is I will have you at that edge repeatedly so when it finally tips over, its explosive.”

“Jawn,” the older man groans, trying to make him touch him where he wants it the most and the spot he has been avoiding for a few minutes, “Please!”

“Damn you’re hot when you are like this,” he mutters before taking mercy on the older man and just about swallowing him down. He cannot deepthroat the way Sherlock does, but he is still good at giving the impression of it. He’s always said not gay, because he’s not, he’s bi. He just happens to prefer women to men most the time.

One of his hands wanders southwards, teasing and testing his lover’s entrance to make sure it’s safe to do more with. Since he cannot feel any tears in the skin, he blindly lubes his hand, making sure to use the cooling one, rather than the regular or heated one, this way any irritation will be taken care of.

He continue to keep the older man on the edge, using his mouth while he prepares him, when Mycroft comes he wants to be inside him to feel the glorious way his body tightens around him. It’s one of his favorite parts of sleeping with a man, the different sensations compared to sleeping with a woman.

Letting go of his prick, he slides up the taller man’s body, kissing him as he goes until they are face to face. Slowly, languidly, he kisses him, one hand gently stroking his lover’s hardness before he finally sits up and leaves him panting before him. Quickly and silently he strips, tossing his clothing on the sofa and imprinting the image of the tall man laid out like an offering before him.

“May I?” he inquires, motioning towards the older man’s midsection.

“Yes, please, Jawn,” the genius moans in response, body arching towards him, legs falling open just the slightest bit more.

Smiling, he settles between them, kissing the taller man while he uses his hand to line them up and press only his tip into the older man’s burning out and cooled flesh.

“Jawn!” his lover gasps as he braces himself on his good arm, his other arm slipping between them to stroke his lover’s cock.

When he bottoms out, he presses against Mycroft’s prostate, and on his second thrust the taller man is coming between them, coating their stomachs and his hand in seman. He continues his slow thrusts, taking his time to tease and enjoy the feeling of that tightness around him. It takes all his willpower as Three Continents Watson not to come as the older man does so. Instead he gently releases his prick, shifts how he is positioned so he is on his knees instead, and grasps the auburn-haired man’s hips to hold him in place as he keeps moving. Almost an hour passes like that, his body slowly teasing the older man, pressing and dragging against his prostate until his lover is getting hard again. Through it all, the taller man makes the most lovely and filthy sounds.

He gets the impression this is the first time anyone has ever done this to him, not surprising if what he saw the previous night was a normal for them.

Eventually his knees start to hurt, so he changes his angle again, this time stretching out his legs and tugging the taller man between them. Since this position make it easy for him to keep the pace he set with only one hand to hold his lover in place, the other hand goes to touching and exploring every place he can reach. When he is sure that Mycroft cannot take too much more, he moves one more time, this time back on his hands and knees so he is over top of him again, kissing him slowly before picking up the pace.

“Jawn!” the auburn-haired man nearly screams as he starts to pound his prostate harder, causing Mycroft to spill for a second time between them. As the older man’s body does so, he lets go of his control, coming deep inside of him after one more heavy thrust.

He nearly collapses on top of the taller man, using all of his self control to keep his trembling muscles from giving out.

“You alright?” he asks the genius as he slowly withdraws and reaches for the wet flannel.

Very drowsily, the politician answers, “Better than alright.”

He fights back a smirk, choosing to smile instead, “That’s good. Very good, you just rest now, I’ll take care of you.”

Carefully he cleans him up before cleaning himself. Since the genius is nearly asleep, he stokes the fire, getting it built back up, and fetches an extra blanket. After turning out the lights, he covers them up, curling close around the taller man. One hand slowly stroking him even though he is nearly asleep.

Dinner can wait, he thinks as he drifts off, pale daylight barely making it through the curtains and the warmth of the fire lulling him to sleep beside the tall genius.


	5. Sherlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr about my stories: [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Johnlock time

_John’s POV_  


He wakes up to the boffin slamming the downstairs door open. The noise startles Mycroft awake, causing him to stiffen and grow tense in his arms. Gently, he hugs the older man, murmuring reassuringly, “It’s just your brother getting home.”

Letting out a breath, the older man nods and relaxes against him. Drifting back off, though not totally asleep according to the feel of his body.

“Quiet Sherlock,” he orders the younger man as he comes prancing through the door, stopping to just stare at them when he notices where they are curled up at.

Grinning, the younger man quickly shuts the door, before taking all of his clothes off and crawling under the blankets with them. “I’ll tell you about the experiment later,” he declares as his cold toes press between his legs.

“Alright Sherlock,” he replies as he turns slightly, looping his second arm around the genius.

Somehow he ends up on his back, with one brother per side pressed close against him, their heads resting against his chest and shoulders. Smiling, he gently strokes the parts of their bodies he can reach as the three of them drift off to sleep again.

The next time he wakes up, it is to Sherlock sucking very lightly on his dick, his long body crouched between his legs. Beside him, the older man is slowly stirring, stretching like a cat.

“Food first,” he informs the younger man as he uses his hands to guide him away from his cock.

A pout quickly forms on his lips, until he leans up to catch them in a kiss, lightly flicking his tongue against his before exploring his mouth with the barest of touches, causing him to groan and try to press back.

“Food first,” he repeats as he sits back, smirking at the dazed expression on his younger lover’s face.

“You’ll need it,” the elder brother remarks as he sits up.

“Really?” the boffin replies with interest, studying his brother before his eyes go wide and he glances between them. “Yes John.”

Chuckling, he stands, stretching and working the kinks out of his shoulder from the last few days of being a bit more active then it likes. That’s alright, he’ll deal with it and take care of his boys.

Heading to the kitchen, he checks for dinner supplies, sighing when he confirms that there really isn’t any. Ordering food then, not a problem, it only takes him a minute or so to dress.

“What do you want for dinner loves?” he asks as he returns to the living room to find the two of the curled up together on the blanket, voices quiet as they talk to each other. His geniuses are adorable together.

“Thai,” Sherlock answers him, tilting his head to look at him.

“Italian,” Mycroft answer at the same time, turning slightly towards him.

Laughing, he grabs his phone out of his trousers and calls for the Thai first since it will take it a few minutes longer to get here before calling angelo’s for the Italian. He gets something from each as well.

“Dinner will be here in twenty-three minutes,” he announces to the boys as he tugs on his trousers and vest. He does not mind his boys seeing his shoulder, however he does not like strangers seeing it. At least with Sherlock and Mycroft they understand exactly what the different scars are without him saying a word.

“Yes John,” they chorus together with a shared small smile.

It really is a pleasure seeing the two of them like this. They can be so much nicer in private, not to say they are not still biting in their responses, but the edge is gone. Both of them can be vicious, though Sherlock has it down to a better art form than his brother, shredding a person without raising his voice or batting an eye. Mycroft, on the other hand, excels at being threatening and intimidating without raising his voice.

Shaking his head, he pulls out of his mind, and smiles at the brothers. “You two look good together,” he states as he admires the dark and warm colors of the brothers. Milky porcelain and creamy peach, dark auburn and gleaming black, their stormy eyes are the most common physical feature between them besides the height.

“You really do look good together, both of you are handsome men in your own right, but you complement each other. I am definitely the drab one in our trio.”

Both brothers scowl at him, before sharing one of those looks he knows means they are having a conversation.

The younger goes to comment, only the doorbell chimes and the politician’s phone goes off.

Groaning because he had not realized that he had spent twenty-three minutes thinking of how good his lovers look, he fetches their dinner from downstairs. He is unsurprised that both of the delivery men had arrived at the same time since they both tend to be quick, Sherlock gives good tips for timely deliveries and scathying remarks for slowness. Returning to the living room he spots the elder brother staring at the fireplace with a frustrated expression.

“I’ve been called in. However, I told my assistant it would take half hour to get ready.” The older man informs him softly.

“Well then, get a shower. I will make sure there is silverware so you can eat in the car on your way.” He replies with a nod towards his lover. He would have prefered to have both of them home for the night but this is a part of their life.

The older man nods, standing and heading into bathroom.

He heads into the kitchen in order to collect some clean silverware to place in with the politician’s dinner. Then he makes a pot of hot water in order to make tea for each of them. It is just finishing up when the auburn-haired man steps out of the bathroom with the towel.

“I’m borrowing one of your suits,” the tall man informs his brother as he heads towards the bedroom.

“Back of the far end closet, you should be able to find four outfits that should fit your current frame.” The younger brother remarks from the nest of blankets on the floor.

“Thank you,” the politician responds as he slips in the room.

While the oldest of their trio is getting dressed, he gets his and Sherlock’s dinners ready and set them on the coffee table.

A moment later the taller man is coming out as he is carrying the cups to the living room.

“Yours is on the counter, drink up,” he orders softly.

Nodding, the taller man does so, while his brother calls out, “Tea John.”

Smiling, he heads into the other room with the tea, passing it to the dark-haired genius and enjoying the look of pleasure that crosses the boffin’s face.

“John always makes the best tea, I realized that while I was gone,” the younger man comments.

“Thank you Sherlock,” he replies. His ears perk as he hears the pur of the car pulling up, “Your ride’s here love, here is your dinner, make sure you eat it.”

Mycroft accepts it with a nod, shyly kissing him farewell before nodding to his brother.

“He’s too skinny,” Sherlock states as his brother leaves, “He should not be able to fit in my suits. Even one of my bigger suits. That he can is worrisome.” Stormy eyes turn to him as the younger man orders, “Fix him John.”

“We will love, we will.” He reassures his flatmate with a serious nod, “I worry about both of you.” Changing the subject he queries, “What would you like to do?”

“You gave Mycroft a massage, I would like one,” the boffin declares.

Chuckling, he nods, “Alright, all I need to do is change out the towels and water. Get comfortable.”

Before those words are even fully out of his mouth, the taller genius is stretching out on top of the blanket, the second one thrown to the side with his pert ass in the air, head resting on his arms.

Grabbing up the hand drying towel and the wet towel, along with the bowl of water, he goes and changes them out. His mind is considering what type of rub down to give Sherlock since he thinks the type he gave Mycroft is probably not exactly it. When he gets back to the living room the boffin is sitting up a thoughtful look on his face.

“John,” the younger man states questioningly.

“Yeah Sherlock?” He replies as he sets up.

“Has anyone ever gave you the massage?”

He shrugs, trying not to remember the past and the last time someone had. That could be a dangerous thing to think about. Remind him of what he used to hope for. How he discovered that his attraction to men was not purely physical as he had thought prior to that. It is one of those things he wishes he could erase from his memories. Deletion, the way Sherlock describes it, would be a very useful sometimes.

“It’s been awhile,” he replies, not volunteering any more information. Closing his eyes he forces the past from his mind, not wanting to picture how it had felt and where he had been, particularly not wanting to recall who he had been with.

“Then I will give you a massage instead,” the younger man declares, “I took classes for a case before we met.”

He blinks, a slow smile curving his lips, “Alright.” Settling next to the taller man on the floor, he states, “Dinner first.”

The genius grumbles but agrees, lifting his fork and setting to eating. Grinning, he uses his fork to offer a bite to the dark-haired man, causing him to blush. Over the next several minutes they take turns feeding each other, and taking their own bites. Its playful and light hearted, not something he would have expected prior to them starting this relationship. When they are done with dinner, he cleans it up.

As soon as he steps into the living room, he notices that the younger man has turned off the lights, lit the candles and fireplace, and fluffed the blankets.

“Shirt off and lay down,” the dark-haired genius orders with a lazy wave of his hand.

Smiling to himself, he tugs his shirt over his head, and drops it on the sofa. He debates about where to lay for a minute before deciding on the blanket. Carefully he kneels and then stretches out so his back is presented to the taller man.

The genius straddles his upper legs without pressing down, so he can only feel the barest heat off of them. He notices the sound of two of the different oils being opened, his nose tells him that Sherlock had selected the vanilla and sandalwood.

Closing his eyes, he tries to relax as he waits for the younger man to begin. This is definitely different than the last time he got a massage.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

Sherlock’s hands seem a bit cool as he slowly starts on the base of his neck and shoulders. From there, those long fingers move across and down his back. Softly, he traces each of the scars, murmuring softly what he thinks each of the scars is. He considers correcting him twice, but decides against it. Now is not the time to be discussing that.

“I have dreamed about this for years,” the younger man states quietly, “particular during the time I was gone and dreams were the only thing I had.” Those musician’s hands have worked the uppermost layer of muscles and were now working the lower layers. “One of my favorite dreams was coming back to find you waiting for me. You would welcome me and be happy to see me.” There is a pause full of way too much emotion, “Well, it went different, that’s for sure.”

“Sherlock-” he begins only to be cut off.

“Don’t apologize John. Mycroft tried to warn me and I would not listen.” A wistful note enters the younger man’s voice, “We’re together now. That’s what counts.”

So he doesn’t say anything, just stays still and lets his lover continue working on him. It does feel rather odd to not be the one being the caregiver, yet he realizes that he is by allowing Sherlock to do it right now because that is what he needs. Drifting, he enjoys the low rumble of the dark-haired genius’ voice as he continues to tell him of his dreams and hopes, of his relationship with Mycroft, and some of the things that happened while he was gone. He knows that when he thinks of it later, much of it will upset him. For now, he will continue with his current path.

“John, you’re almost asleep,” the younger man eventually complains.

“You are well aware that I love listening to you. Plus your brilliant at massages, not that that is a shock, you are brilliant at everything you apply yourself to.” He replies drowsily.

A low, husky chuckle is the younger man’s answer.

“Your turn now Sherlock, which oil would you prefer?” He remarks as he gets up and stretches, enjoying the way his back currently feels.

“Sandalwood,” the genius declares, “We shall get you other scents to work with, and maybe a table. I could use it too.”

Turning towards the younger man, he reaches out and gently cups his jaw, leaning in to press their lips together in a chaste kiss. There is a soft smile on his face when they separate, foreheads pressing together gently.

“I love you Sherlock,” he informs the dark-haired genius, “It’s not just something I say.”

Smiling at him, the younger man replies, “I know, I observe it every day.” His voice turns playful as he grumbles, “Even if you are a tease.”

Grinning mischievously at the younger man, he remarks, “I may be a tease but when I finally deliver it’s mind blowing.”

An excited gleam enters the genius’s eyes as he sits back before stretching out and presenting his bottom once more. He still hasn’t got dressed.

Taking the one flannel to heat up, he enjoys how his back currently feels. Once the towel is warm again, he heads into the living room, settling besides his younger lover.

“I’m going to lay this towel on your back,” he tells the genius.

His eyes sweep over the tall man’s back, noting every scar on his once smooth skin. The porcelain skin is marred with a collection of various lines and marks. His doctor’s training and time in a war zone allows him to understand exactly what each mark is and how they would have been made. Like the marks on his skin, he does not discuss them, not right now. Now is for their pleasure, they can discuss that at some later date.

Gently, he stretches the towel out and covers the tall man’s back.

A low groan escapes the tall man’s lips as he arches into the towel. “That feels surprisingly good.”

“That’s the point of it,” he remarks with a smile.

He grabs the oil, opening it up and pouring some on his hands. Once it is warm, he tugs the towel out of the way and slowly sets to work rubbing the knots and tenseness out of the muscles beneath of his finger tips. As he massages the beautiful man’s back, he’s quiet, feeling no need to fill the comfortable silence between them.

“John?” the younger man murmurs drowsily.

“Yeah Sherlock?” He replies just as quietly.

“Why are you being so quiet? Sometimes I just want to listen to you speak.” The genius replies, arching up into his hands.

“What would you like to talk about?” He queries as he continues to massage the muscles in his lover’s back.

It takes the younger man a few minutes before he answers, “Why did you come back?”

“Since the first day, you’ve always been my home. I didn’t realize it until you were gone. By then you weren’t here, so I dealt with the depression for the majority of the time you were gone.” He takes a deep breath to calm himself, before continuing, his hands never stopping the massage that he is giving Sherlock. “I loved Mary, and wanted Liza, but not in the same way I loved or wanted you. Then everything happened and I felt lost again, only this time you were there. My home, despite, or maybe in spite, of everything.” He leans down to press a gentle kiss to the nape of the younger man’s neck. “I never expected anything more than friendship, originally because I thought you were uninterested and later because I thought I had missed that chance. I am happy that it is though.”

“John,” his love achingly whispers, emotion filling his voice.

Once more he presses his lips to the younger man’s warm skin.

Rolling beneath him, the genius smiles up at him before leaning up to press their lips together.

His hands cup the younger man’s jaw, thumb lightly running over his sharp cheekbones. The kiss starts off slow and gentle, just a press of their lips together. As the heat rises between them he deepens the kiss, exploring his lover’s mouth with his tongue.

When Sherlock moans, he starts to work his way across his face, rather than just kissing his lips. Light, feathery kisses are scattered across his cheeks, forehead, eyes, nose, and jaw before he starts to work his way downwards. He continues his light kisses as he works his way down his jaw, nibbling at the long throat as he goes. At the base of the younger man’s neck, right over the pulse point, he applies just enough pressure and suction to leave a red mark before swirling his tongue over it.

Another moan ripples from the tall genius’ throat.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he groans as he sets to exploring, tasting, and touching every inch of the younger man’s upper body starting with nibbling at those too prominent collarbones. “I love how you taste,” he murmurs, “just perfect.”

His hands joins his mouth in the exploration of the younger man. When he reaches his nipples, he takes his time with different ways of playing with them, listening and watching carefully the reactions to each action. Mentally recording how he responds so he will know what works best for Sherlock in the future. When he gasps his name he kisses his way over to the other side and repeats the process. He takes his time categorizing and finding every single sensitive spot and learning what his lover enjoys. All of his knowledge as Three Continents Watson is rather useful in this situation and gives him a slight edge over the younger man as he takes his time pleasuring him.

“Jawn!” the dark-haired genius gasps as he works himself lower, using his hands to hold those rather active hips still.

Smiling, he lightly nibbles on the junction between leg and torso for a moment, ignoring where he wants to be touched the most according to the way he is moving, or trying to move anyways. Straightening up, he changes his position, going from kneeling beside him to kneeling between his legs. For several moments he holds his lover still as he studies his thickness. He is slightly longer than his brother, but not as thick.

Slowly leaning forward with his eyes locked with Sherlock’s, his tongue flicks out and lap at the tip.

“Jawn!” It is both a plea and a demand, the most lovely thing he has heard in a very long time, he thinks, except for possibly the noises Mycroft made that morning.

He spends several minutes just teasing the younger man before he starts to work on taking more of him in his mouth.

Above him, long musician’s fingers have sunk into the blanket they are sprawled on, and Sherlock is chanting his name, voice needy and far lower pitched than normal.

Several time he brings the younger man to the edge using his hands and mouth, and each time he backs him off the same way he had his brother. They may be stretched out on a blanket in the living room in front of the fireplace, but he is damned if he is going to rush. Instead he does every single thing he had ever thought of during those years he never thought that he would have a chance to.

When he has decided he has teased him in this way enough, he starts to work himself off of him, until he is only sucking on the head once more.

“You’re beautiful,” he declares as he stops sucking on his penis the rest of the way and moves slowly down it to nose at his balls, “Perfect,” he continues southwards and stops just shy of that puckering hole, “Can I Sherlock?” he inquires huskily, his breath huffing over it and making it twitch. He knows he does not need to explain what he is asking considering where he is and that the younger man has taken his brother at least.

“Yes, Jawn, please, yes,” the younger man answers almost before he is done asking permission.

Smirking, he huffs out a long breath intentionally against it in order to watch it twitch before reaching blindly for the lube. Glancing at the one he grabbed, he nods, and carefully puts some on his fingers before he slowly sets to opening him. It takes several minutes to work just the first finger all the way in because of how tight he is.

That makes him wonder if or when the last time Sherlock was the one who was breached, because he is so tight.

Slowly, he works his younger lover open, getting him all ready to be taken. He has already decided to not use the same long tease that he used with the older man. Instead, this time he will go for getting him to come sooner so they can just curl together, there will be plenty of time later for more. Once he is sure the taller man is open enough that he will not hurt him, he kisses, licks, and nips his way up the genius’ body.

Pressing their lips together, he kisses Sherlock deeply as he balances on his knees and right elbow, aligning them with his left hand. Slowly he presses the tip of his cock against the younger man’s entrances.

“You’re sure?” He demands, voice rough but he has to make sure as he stops kissing him for just a moment. There has to be a reason his younger lover is so tight, and if he doesn’t want to be the one penetrated that is not a problem for him.

“Yes,” the boffin hiss out, arching into the contact and inadvertently taking the tip in. Groaning, the taller man presses against him, “More Jawn, please, more.”

He smiles, pressing forward slowly despite the legs wrapped around him and the hands encouraging him to move faster with the way they are moving along his body. His plan is to find Sherlock’s prostate and grind against him and it until he is a writhing, coming mess. So that is what he does, he carefully changes the angle of his hips so that when he presses the rest of the way in, he hits that sensitive sweet spot on the first try, causing the younger man to gasp and moan.

Sherlock returns to his vocalness, a whole litany of things spilling from his mouth. Some is dirty, some is pleas, it is all intended to speed him along.

For that alone he takes his time pivoting his hips making sure not to withdraw, only to tease the younger man. He spends several long minutes doing just that, delighting in the vast variety of sound that escapes his lips as he does so. When he is sure that Sherlock can take no more because of the way his body is trembling and his hole is fluttering around him, he changes the angle by shifting to his full knees before starting a pattern of withdrawing and thrusting, aiming to hit the dark-haired genius’ sweet spot. Within minutes he has success and he can feel the boffin getting ready to come.

Pressing their bodies tightly together, he uses his elbows for balance as he holds Sherlock close. With his lips close to the younger man’s ear, he breaths, “Come for me love, let me see your pleasure.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when the dark-haired man does just that, body arching, eyes going from heavy lidded and nearly closed to wide open and glossy, breath a series of short hard pants as he cries out, “Jawn!”

It is Sherlock’s orgasm that causes his, with a growl into the younger man’s throat, his losses control of his hips, pistoning in him hard for a few rapid thrusts before he is coming too.

Immediately after the genius goes lax, limbs falling from around him to rest haphazardly on the blankets.

Smiling, he carefully withdraws and grabs the damp flannel in order to wash them. Once he has carefully cleaned his lover and himself, he stokes the fire and blows out the candles before grabbing the second blanket to cover them up and curling up with him.

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing his lips to the boffin’s forehead.

“I know Jawn,” the younger man replies drowsily, “I think I love you too.”

“You’re wonderful love, now get some rest so we can talk in the morning.” He gently orders him.

“G’night Jawn,” is the muttered response as he does just that.

A soft smile curves his lips as he kisses the younger man’s forehead again, eyes closing as he drifts off to sleep.

Life is good, he thinks,  he doesn’t understand how he got so lucky as to have both brother’s but he will accept their gift as long as they let him. Now for some sleep, he is sure he will need his energy later. One last time he kisses the dark-haired genius’ forehead, arms wrapped firmly around those thin shoulders as Sherlock pillows his head on his chest, the rest of his body draped over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Awesome Readers,  
> Sorry this took so long to get posted, a combination of factors has made life a bit crazy, the biggest two being my internet is acting up and I am preparing to possibly go to my uncle's wedding. I hope everyone enjoys, the last chapter should be posted in the next few days, as long as nothing goes wrong or comes up. Thanks again folks!  
> Jaimi


	6. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr about my stories: [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!

_John’s POV  
_ He awakes to a cold blast of air as the door silently swings open. His eyes flicker open and he tilts his head, spotting the politician slip in quietly. The older man looks tired as he closes the door behind himself and locks it once more.  Quietly, he moves over to the sofa where he sits down to remove his coat, jacket, and shoes.

"You could take off the rest of your outer layer and join us," he suggests softly, trying not to wake the dark-haired genius curled against his chest.

There is a brief pause before the older man smiles, nodding and slowly strips down to his pants.

Trying not to beam, he lifts a corner of the blanket for the older man to crawl under. When Mycroft joins them, he wraps his free arm around him, and his other shoulder is used as a pillow. Gently kissing the top of their heads, he snuggles in and drifts off to sleep once more, content to be pillowed between his lovers.

When he wakes for a third time, it’s because he bladder has decided he needs to use the bathroom.  Unfortunately, both of his loves are still asleep, so he debates for a minute as to what to do.

“I’ll move,” the elder brother murmurs against his ear, “I can feel you twitching.”

“Thank you,” he replies quietly as the taller man scoots a bit.

Before he has a chance to figure out how to wiggle out of the younger brother’s grip, it loosens and lets go, the dark-haired genius sitting up and blinking at him in the most adorable fashion.

Smiling, he sits up, gently kissing both of them on the lips before bolting to the bathroom.

When he gets back from the bathroom, the brothers are sitting side by side on the blanket, the fireplace has been stoked, and he can hear the water in the pot warming as it sits directly in front of the fireplace.

“We’ve decided we need to take care of you, since you made it a point to take care of us.” The auburn-haired genius states as his head tilts slightly to look him straight in the face.

He glances at the younger brother who is watching him intently, before nodding, “Alright, if that’s what you’d like.”

“It is,” they reply at the same time.

Grinning, he settles on the blanket beside the brothers. Sherlock moves to settle on his right while Mycroft scoots closer to his left.

“May I?” the politician inquires, his hand hesitantly reaching for him.

“Always Mycroft,” he replies, one hand lifting to brush against the taller man’s jaw gently.

Slowly that hand reaches for him again, tracing down his chest, lightly scraping his nails against his skin. Carefully, that long fingered hand explores him with light, barely there touches. It is not sexual, not at this point anyhows. Instead it is curious and explorative, making him wonder if the brothers ever actually made love rather than just fucked. Sherlock had said they had a complete relationship, but something tells him that there was little time for the gentler side of touch.

Beside him, the boffin holds perfectly still, eyes locked onto his brother. There is a frown forming on his kissable lips and his brows are drawn together in concentration as he watches.

He relaxes into the touch as it continues to go over every inch of uncovered skin.

“I missed something,” the younger man eventually mutters as his eyes stay on his brother, “You needed this and I failed at my end of the deal to provide it.”

Mycroft stops exploring him, his focus shifting to his brother as he quickly reassures him, “You did not fail. Our deal has been satisfactory.”

“You clearly need the sort of affection John is providing and allowing. I did not provide it. Our physical interactions were almost always fast and furious, like the other night when we showed John.” The younger states seriously.

The elder opens his mouth to say something only to be interrupted by his stomach growling loudly.

Both look at him, identical looks on their face of disbelief and amusement.

“You’re hungry now?” The younger man demands petulantly.

“Yes Sherlock, considering the type of activity we have been up to, I am startled it did not happen sooner.” He retorts with a chuckle.

“Shall we order a early morning snack or breakfast?” He queries when he glances at the clock.

“If you insist,” the younger brother grumbles.

The elder brother nods, “I would appreciate it.”

“Well then,” he remarks as he gets to his feet, “I’ll call for food, you two just relax or talk.”

Both of them nod while he tugs on his sleeping bottoms and pants before grabbing his phone and calling a Greek restaurant that he knows will deliver. A few moments later he makes them tea, using the extremely hot water that the brothers had boiled on the edge of the fireplace.

“Breakfast will be here in a few minutes,” he tells them as he passes the teas. “Any plans for the day?”

“Eat the required amount of food and have sex,” the dark-haired genius promptly replies.

Flushing, the auburn-haired genius nods once.

Grinning at both, he tilts his head to the side, coming up with a plan. Arching an eyebrow at Sherlock, he flickers his gaze to Mycroft. There is just the slightest movement of the boffin’s head as he agrees to the unspoken plan.     Less than five minutes later the doorbell chimes, so he stands and fetches it, paying the delivery woman extra for it. Returning upstairs, he uses the coffee table to layout the food options for the brothers before fetching cups to pour the teas in.

“Spanakopita, petoules, vasilopita, yogurt, fruit, and fruit tea,” the older brother remarks as his gaze sweeps over the selections. “Feeling like Greek today?”

Smirking, he nods as he explains, “High energy, fairly healthy to eat, and sugary enough to interest your brother.”

“Good plan,” the auburn-haired genius remarks as he picks up a sticky petoules, tearing a small piece off and nibbling on it before tearing a second piece to offer to him shyly.

Smiling gently at the older man he accepts the fried honey pancake bite, moaning softly at the taste of the honey and powdered sugar and cinnamon.

Turning to his brother, the politician offers the third bite to his brother, eyes widening slightly as Sherlock’s tongue curls around the treat and his fingertip before slowly pulling it into his mouth. He finds it just as appealing as Mycroft, though in a totally different way as he recalls how that tongue curled around his brother’s cock two nights previous.

He picks up a vasilopita, offering it to Mycroft, waiting for the older man to take a bite before taking one     himself. Setting it down, he picks up one of the petoules. Unlike the politician, he does not tear a piece off before offering it to the dark-haired genius, instead he holds it out and waits for his younger lover to take a bite. He tries not to groan as the genius’ tongue flicks over his fingertips before lightly biting into the breakfast treat.

The next several minutes continue in a similar fashion with the three of them taking turns giving each other bites of the breakfast foods. As he suspected, the younger man enjoys the petoules the most, while he likes the spanakopita, and the eldest the vasilopita. The yogurt with its honey and nuts is well liked as well, particularly when mixed with the fruit. All of it is washed down with the fruit tea which is a perfect match to the rest of their breakfast foods.

When they are done and everything is gone, he fetches a cloth to wash the table off. While he is doing that, each brother takes a turn in the bathroom. He gets the fire burning once more before getting his own shower and a quick use of the toilet. Back in the living room he finds the brother’s stretched out together on the blanket once more, the table has been pushed back, and he notices that there is actually a different layout to the blanket, a second one has been added. There are fresh steaming teas on the now moved table, and Mycroft is taking his time lightly touching the youngest of their number. There is affection and hope in that touch, warmth and pleasure.

“This is more pleasurable than I thought it would be,” the boffin murmurs as he continues to relax, stretched out and on display, his cock just barely twitching in interest as his brother continues touching him.

“It can be extremely pleasurable,” he remarks, “To be on either side of it, though I have always preferred to be the one giving the pleasure, not receiving it.”

Fitting himself behind the older genius, he lightly trails his fingers down his arms before settling his hands over the auburn-haired man’s. “If you’d like I can show you what I discovered yesterday to make him a writhing mess.” His voice is barely a breath against the shell of the genius’ ear.

Silently, the politician nods, arching back into him slightly so there is no space between them.

The next several minutes find him getting hard faster than he has in months, if not years. Despite the amount of pleasure he had received the previous day, he is sure that his fuse will not be as long as he wants. Particularly when he considers how hot he found it just watching them, now to be joining? Yes, indeed it’s going to be an arousing night.

Eventually he stops guiding the taller man’s hands, instead he just holds still as he allows the older man to guide their motions. He does not move away from Mycroft’s back, staying a warm and comforting presence as he enjoys watching as the brothers connect. There is something there, a further understanding and knowledge past what they have already. He can almost see the new bonds forming between them with this understanding and it makes him smile gently against his lover’s shoulder.

“You two are perfect, simply perfect,” he murmurs happily as he continues to watch. He is content to keep going with the pace and tone set right now.

Neither brother answers or remarks for which he is happy, particularly as he keeps admiring them.

“Did you know John, I have never let Mycroft take me the way I take him, the way you took me.” The dark-haired genius tells him before moaning quietly and arching into his brother’s long fingers.

“I gathered as much from the way the both of you acted Friday night and how tight you were last night.” He answers the boffin, his breath teasing the politician’s ear.

A soft gasp escapes his older lover’s lips.

“I think that you both crave intimacy, because that seems to be something you limited yourselves on. That’s alright, I will make sure both of you have as much intimacy as you need to be happy and healthy, to thrive.” He murmurs gently into the politician’s ear, before he uses just the tip of his tongue to trace the shell of his it. “There will be times we will be passionate, affectionate, gentle, loving. We’ll argue and we’ll make up. There will be quiet days, busy days, and loud days. No matter what, I will care for both of you equally and continue to want you. Never doubt it.”

In his arms, the auburn-haired genius trembles, his hands stilling against his brother’s skin as his eyes drift shut.

Sherlock takes the stillness as a chance to sit up and press himself against his brother’s chest. Pressing his lips to his brother’s other ear, he states, “John’s right. I will try and do better too.”

Gently, the younger man feather kisses across his brother’s face before lightly kissing the politician on the lips. Eventually the dark-haired genius reaches where he has his chin resting lightly on the older man’s shoulder. For a few long moments they kiss over the politician’s shoulder before breaking apart. Slowly, the younger man starts to explore his brother’s upper body with his hands, lips, tongue, and nose.

“I considered moving us to the bedroom,” the younger man remarks, “then decided it would be better here where we have already shared intimate moments.” He smirks against his brother’s skin. “Besides, I like the idea of us three having our first time together where we have each shared our first moments.”

Sharing an understanding look with the younger man, his hands start to slowly explore the older man’s body in time with the dark-haired man. They take their time giving him love, each touching in an affectionate way as they aim to arouse the eldest in their group. He has more experience with it, however Sherlock has years of toying with his brother, even if it was mostly in an efficient way and not affectionately. They share tips with each other, and both rejoice in the variety of noises Mycroft makes. However the first low groan that escapes the older man has his brother staring at him, repeating the last action one more time and smiling in delight.

“He’s always been rather quiet except for right before he was going to orgasm,” the younger man mutters. “We’ve rarely spent time just touching each other, not since the early years.”

Sighing, he shakes his head and chuckles, “The two of you managed to make it into more of a business deal it sounds like, rather than a show of affection. Probably a combination of worry you would be caught, familiarity, and comfort with each other.”  Nibbling lightly at the pale freckled skin before him, he informs them, “That will not be happening with us, nor between you again, I think.”

Both brothers nod before he returns his entire attention to teasing the older man.

Several long minutes pass with them continuing their teasing.

Pressing his lips to the auburn-haired man’s ear once more he queries, “What would you like to do tonight Mycroft? Be worshipped until you come? Fill your brother’s tight ass? Get slowly filled until you want to beg in need? Watch us together? Tonight is about your choice.”

A low whimper escapes the politician as he screws his eyes shut tightly. Several times the auburn-haired genius’ mouth opens and snaps shut before he just swallows hard.

“Tell us love, tells us exactly what is on your mind.” He prompts the older man, hands lightly skimming over his body.

Groaning, the politician wiggles between them, pressing his pert bottom against his straining member while his hands slide along his brother’s body. “I want to take my brother while you take me,” he finally answers, his voice breathless.

“Ummmm,” he moans softly into the tall man’s ear, “All fours or facing you?”

“Facing me,” the politician breaths out as his brother bites down just a little hard, it looks like he is trying to leave love bites on that peach colored skin.

“Sherlock lie down and shove one of those pillows under your back to make you easily accessed.” He orders the dark-haired genius.

Lightly nipping at his brother’s chest one last time, he does as directed, wiggling his butt enticingly while he is at it.

Switching to the other ear, he lightly flicks his tongue against it before querying, “Now then, do you wish to taste him first?” He plants a gentle kiss just behind the ear, “Explore him further? Tease him until he is at the edge?” He lightly sucks on that spot, “Prepare him and take your time enjoying the feel of him tight around you?” His hands pull the older man tight against him so when he moves his hips, his dick slides between the auburn-haired genius’ ass-cheeks, “Slide home in him while I do all the work and please all three of us?”

“Jawn,” the older man groans, “Hmmmm, prepare him, slide in, and let you guide us.” He eventually answers as his head falls backwards onto his shoulder.

Smiling, he presses his lips to the skin in front of him as he murmurs, “Alright.”

He uses his hands to carefully arrange the brothers before reaching for the lube.

“Do you want to prepare him or do you want me to prepare him?”

“You, this time, so I may observe,” the auburn-haired genius replies breathlessly.

He smirks, coating his fingers and directing the older man to follow along as he slowly works the younger one open with teasing barely there touches until he is a begging mess. Once he is sure that Sherlock is prepared, he moves again, situating himself behind the politician before encouraging Mycroft to slowly start to sink into his brother while he prepares the taller man. He takes his time working the auburn-haired genius open too, waiting until the politician is rocking between filling his brother and fucking himself on his fingertips before he slicks himself up and slowly sinks into him.

With each thrust forward into his brother, both geniuses make noise, sometimes groaning, other times moaning.  Each noise is full of need and he knows that they are not going to last long just because this is a different type of connection than they are used to. He knows that both of them were nearly in overload the first round, so while they are better with each others familiar touch it is still a lot. That’s alright. He will enjoy the years to come as they figure out new ways to please each other.

At first he takes his time, keeping his motions smooth and gentle as he takes Mycroft who in turn takes his brother. As he feels the tight hole around him fluttering he starts to pick up spend, until both brother’s are gasping, pleading mess beneath him.

Changing the angle of his hips so he presses against the elder brother’s prostate, he also shifts a hand between their bodies in order to take hold of Sherlock’s pulsing member and tease him to completion just moments before Mycroft comes. He is moderately certain it is the fact the dark-haired brother is coming that causes the elder to do the same. Just a few quick thrusts later he is coming as well.

He takes a moment before he withdraws carefully from his lover’s tight rump that is currently leaking everywhere.

Getting to his feet, he takes a moment to admire the way the brothers have just relaxed into each other and are currently drifting before fetching a warm wet cloth to clean them up. When he gets back from the bathroom, the elder brother has withdrawn himself and curled to the side, otherwise they have not moved. He takes his time carefully cleaning them before tossing the flannel on the table, making sure the fire is still going, turning out all of the light he used, and curling back up with them. When they get up in a bit he will shove the blankets into the washer and clean the living room area up.

Something tells him life with these two will never be dull for long, something he is vastly looking forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That is it for this tale folks, however it is not over for this world and as soon as I have a verse name for it, it will be added to a series. Sorry it took so long to finish, real life has been a pain lately, but the good type, not the bad. Take care!


End file.
